


Freelance Alpha

by idiom



Series: Focus. Commitment. Sheer will. [3]
Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-11-02 01:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20573333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiom/pseuds/idiom
Summary: After a long decade working for the Russians, John Wick was glad to finally have the opportunity to work for himself again. He never really felt the need to go into full retirement. So when Gianna D’Antonio called asking him to escort her younger brother, Santino, to her coronation, he was happy to accept the task.Who knew there was an Omega in the D’Antonio family?





	Freelance Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler alert! My alternative summary is: John/Santino AU in which Gianna hires John to protect Santino and (accidentally?) hooks them up at her coronation party. :P
> 
> After this I think I've got one more fic in me for this pairing <3 Then it'll probably time for NANOWRIMO outlining D:

  
  


—   
New York

Monday Evening

—   
After a long decade working for the Russians, John Wick was glad to finally have the opportunity to work for himself again. He never really felt the need to go into full retirement. 

Back when he’d signed the contract the money had been too good to pass up. The Tarasov Mob liked to make sure their dogs stayed loyal, so for the past ten years of his life John had been working for the Bratva. 

But that clock had ticked it’s last tock. He’d finished his contract with the Russians and he wasn’t about to let himself get tied down again.

Now, John was a free agent and, even at his age, he was fit and ready. His old mentor, Marcus, was doing pretty well for himself after his stint working for Viggo and Abram, John planned to do the same. 

His next hunt couldn’t come soon enough. And as the news spread that John Wick was back on the market, the calls were coming in fast.

—

The phone was ringing. Not the house phone and not his cell. This was the distinctive shuddering brrring-brrring of the old rotary downstairs. 

John stepped into the darkness of his basement and answered without hesitation. He placed the receiver to his ear and waited for whoever it was on the other line to speak.

“ _ Ciao _ , John.”

The sultry Italian drawl of the woman’s voice sounded through the phone.

A slight frown creased John’s brow. 

“Gianna,” he replied in a voice that was much softer than he’d usually use to speak to those on the other end of this particular phone line.

Gianna chuckled a charming laugh. “It’s good to hear from you, old friend.  _ Come stai? _ How are you?” 

John grunted an appropriately reciprocal sound that had Gianna snorting out another laugh.

“Well, I heard that your contract recently ended with Viggo and Abram?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re taking new contracts I assume?”

“No,” came John’s blunt reply. “Freelance only.” He had money now, no need to sign away the rest of his years. Especially not for a few gold coins.

On the other end of the line, Gianna made a disappointed sound and hummed.

“Well,” she huffed with a tsk. “If I can’t persuade you to come work for the Camorra long term, can I perhaps hire you for a job.”

John was silence for a moment before replying: “Of course.” 

He and Gianna were friends, or at least as friendly as friends could be in their line of work. They went way back. John used to work for Vincenzo D’Antonio, her father, out of the continental in Rome. He’d been freelance then too since the Italians traditionally only contracted Italians, so John had just acted as muscle, taking on the odd job, doing a mix of hits and protection work when needed. It had been a good gig until the Russian contract came up in New York.

“Wonderful,” Gianna breathed. “Now I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my father is on his deathbed.”

“Yeah,” John murmured. “Sorry.”

He could practically hear Gianna shrug over the phone. “He’s old.”

John didn’t comment. Everyone knew old Signore D’Antonio was ‘old’, but he wasn’t that ‘old’. Word got around fast back when the man had first been diagnosed with cancer. As soon as it was declared terminal, all eyes turned to Gianna, the Alpha daughter who would fill his vacant seat on the High Table.

“As you know,” Gianna went on. “When my father dies, I will take his place. As Alpha of the D’Antonio family, it is my right.”

“So, what do you need from me?” John asked, genuinely curious. Gianna was already the clear heir, there were no other Alphas in the D’Antonio family’s line to dispute her claim. Besides, as far as John knew the Camorra clans were fairly happy with how she’d been running the show since her father took ill. She could stroll into any room secure in the knowledge that she had the respect of the entire underworld.

“There will be a coronation,” Gianna explained, detailing her grand designs for the party of the century in the D’Antonio’s Roman estate around the ruins of the Baths of Caracalla. “I’d like to have the best there for security. While we have few enemies, some are not happy with my family’s way of doing business nor our continued position on the High Table. They may make an attempt to remove me to open the seat… but also…”

John frowned as Gianna paused. She was not one to falter or mince words.

“Yes?”

“My brother will be in attendance. He needs… extra protection.”

“Your brother?” John frowned. He hadn’t even realized that Gianna had a brother. No one talked about a second D’Antonio heir. Such secrecy around a high profile sibling would have been a strange thing… unless...

“Santino is an Omega.”

Ah… there it was.

“John?”

John maintained his pointed silence. He now vaguely remembered hearing whispers when he lived in Italy. Mostly rumours, nothing explicitly about Santino or his status. No one had seen the boy outside the D’Antonio estate in Naples. Most people assumed the youngest D’Antonio sibling was just some Beta kid too reckless to be brought into the family business. This new information was a bombshell. If Santino D’Antonio was coming out, well, Gianna’s party had the potential to turn into a bit of a reality-TV-style courting gong show. All over an Omega...

“Huh…” John exhaled thoughtfully, letting Gianna know he was still there.

“So, will you take the job? The doctors say father has a week to live at most,” Gianna said with the callous tone of a woman who was most likely checking the state of her manicure while she spoke. “I give him three days tops.”

John looked over at his calendar. It was Monday. 

“I’ll fly out Saturday.”

“ _ Bene. Good.  _ We’ll talk at the Continental in Rome the morning after. _ Allora, ciao, John.  _ Then, bye, John _ . ”  _ Gianna said and John could practically hear her devilish smile through the wire.  _ “ _ Be seeing you Sunday.”

“ _ Ci vediamo. _ Be seeing you.”

— 

Vincenzo D’Antonio died three days later on Thursday night and the funeral was held Saturday afternoon. In no mood to mourn, Gianna scheduled her coronation for the very next weekend after that. 

It was definitely going to be the party of the century.

—

Naples

Saturday Morning   
—

Santino, the D’Antonio family Omega, was young and gifted with a classic beauty and dark, cherubic curls, but pride and joy weren’t exactly adjectives anyone in the family would use to describe him. However, an Omegan rarity? Yes. That he was. 

It was 2019. Omegas had rights and freedoms and shit now. Santino knew others were taking suppressants, getting jobs and living life uncontrolled by heats and hormones. No one was just walking around the house barefoot and pregnant anymore. 

While  _ most _ Omegas had rights nowadays, Santino was still living in the 50s. His father had seen to that. 

Vincenzo had kept him sequestered. Ever since he presented as an Omega at thirteen, Santino had been locked away in the family’s Nepalese estate, only allowed out on the occasional holiday to visit the other properties they owned throughout the country. Most of his life existed within the stone walls that extended around their fortress of a mansion and the slopes of the vineyard. 

In his entire life, the first signs of freedom Santino was beginning to see were only coming now that cancer had finally taken the old man. 

R _ equiescat in pace _ . Rest in peac e . 

Santino had to admit though, his father’s overprotective behaviour hadn’t been completely mad. He was an Omega, the first Omega born into the D’Antonio family in four generations. With him there was potential to make a hugely beneficial bonding arrangement that could tie the Camorra to a powerful ally, but he was also a massive target. Their family had its fair share of enemies, and kidnapping, murdering or worse despoiling the family’s Omega, well, that would be an unequivocal embarrassment. What kind of family, what kind of leader, couldn’t protect their own Omega?

He knew that was why Gianna was pulling out all the stops.

“This party isn’t just about me,” his sister said as they sat down for breakfast on the terrace that overlooked the rolling green of their estate and vineyard. The maids had brought them coffee and pastries; the D’Antonio siblings liked a sweet breakfast.

Santino was across from her wrapped up in a thin silk Gucci robe, the fabric practically falling off him in a way that would have caused a scandal back when their father had been around. The old man barely even trusted the staff around his son.

“Please,” Santino drawled as he peeled apart his sfogliatella, eating the pastry one flaky layer at a time in a way he knew annoyed the hell out of his sister. “Do tell me how this whole coronation isn’t just about you. From that ridiculous band you booked to the venue, this whole thing just screams Gianna in big sparkly stage lights.”

He rolled his eyes at the pout Gianna shot him in return. Her hand came up to her chest, resting just below her collarbone while she gaped.

“ _ Bambino,  _ baby, you wound me. You know this is your party as well.”

Santino sighed, leaning back in his chair. He plucked up his espresso and drank while his sister droned on.

“This is your coming out!” she declared. “Your debutante ball! Your presentation to the world! I want everyone to see my baby brother shine.”

Santino guffawed. “You just want an opportunity to see who’s most interested in this.” He gestured down the line of his own body with one bored sweep of his hand. 

“ _ Bambino… _ ”

“Gianna…” Santino mimicked her pacifying tone in a mocking nasal. “Admit it. Someone big is going to be there, aren’t they. Someone high, high up. Who is it, the Pope? I don’t think he’s allowed to mate, no matter how much he clearly needs to.”

Gianna rolled her eyes, but with a sigh, she relented. “Higher than the Pope,  _ bambino _ . Men like Berrada will be there.”

Santino scowled. He knew of Berrada and his gold encrusted palace in Casablanca. Everyone knew the master of coin.

“I have no interest in being the goldsmith’s breeding bitch,” Santino hissed. “Or anyone else’s for that matter! I don’t care how high up they are on the goddamn High Table. ”

“Humour me, Santi,” Gianna said, waving away his worries. “Just come to the party, be yourself. Talk. Laugh. You’ve always been so good whenever there were guests at the house.”

It was a rare thing, but their family did entertain at the vineyard every once in awhile. It was practically the only socializing Santino got to do with people outside the family, his tutors and the ever present staff. “You can’t make me go with any of them. I’m not a piece of meat, Gianna.”

His sister brushed that comment aside. “You don’t have to let anyone have a bite, they only need to smell what you have... cooking.”

“That’s disgusting,” Santino all but snarled. “Father is rolling in his fucking grave.”

Again, Gianna feigned insult. “I’m not a monster,” she gasped. “I won’t just throw you to the wolves. I’ve hired protection. The best in the business, in fact.”

“I have protection,” Santino scoffed, nodding to Ares who was lingering nearby, as always.

Gianna barely spared his silent shadow a glance. “This man is the very best, Santi.”

With a sigh, Santino eyed her suspiciously. “Who?”

Gianna smiled as she replied simply: “John Wick.”

As soon as the words slipped from her tongue, Santino’s eyes widened. It was barely perceptible, but Gianna knew she’d sparked her brother’s intrigue. Though he barely got the opportunity to experience their world, Santino was fascinated by the long line of assassins that had been hired to clear their family’s path to power. He’d still been a child when John Wick worked for their father, but he would always remember how utterly astounded the old man was at dinner while talking about this legendary assassin. His father used to say: give that man a name, he’ll bring you a body… or ten.

“John Wick?  _ The _ John Wick?”

“Sì, yes, Santi. Like I said, only the best for my  _ bambino _ .”

Santino wasn’t in any kind of mood to react to the stupid pet name. His mind was busy. 

John Wick. Santino had never seen the man, but he’d heard all the stories. The fucking pencil, that was a good one. Ares liked to reenact it whenever they both had a few too many bottles of wine. 

“Alright,” Santino drawled. “I’ll come to your party.”

Behind him he knew Ares was seething. She didn’t need someone from out of town waltzing in to do the job she’d been doing for years. Santino knew this. He’d make it up to her later.

“Excellent. I knew you’d come around.” Gianna was simpering with glee. “I’m meeting John at the Continental in  _ Roma _ tomorrow morning to sort out the details.”

“I’ll join you.”

Gianna laughed. “Ah... no. You’ll stay right here as always. The party is your debut, remember?”

“God. And here I thought father had died. Turns out his ghost lives on in my overbearing, control freak of a sister.” Santino slouched back in his chair. “It’s the Continental, what could possibly happen? And you don’t have to introduce me as your brother or as an Omega or even by name if you don’t want to!” 

Gianna sighed heavily, “Alright. Fine. You may come along. But you are not to talk to John or anyone else unless I say so. This is business. I need John at the party just as much as I need you if not more.”

Gianna’s tune was suddenly a lot more serious. Santino raised a brow for a moment before his face evened out. 

“Alright,” he said with a half smile.

The whole party was just a big piece of an even bigger game. They were all pawns. Soon enough, Gianna D’Antonio would be their queen.

—

Rome

Sunday Morning

—

John had rolled up to the Continental the previous evening just after Vincenzo D’Antonio’s funeral. He’d been invited but didn’t bother to attend. Instead he slept off his jet lag and woke as refreshed as he ever was (not very) the next morning to make his way down to the lounge where breakfast was being served outside on the terrace.

Gianna was already there, bright and early. She looked diabolical in a pair of dark sunglasses and a black silken dress with a red designer jacket tossed carelessly over her shoulders. There was something about the fashionista style, everyone seemed loathe to actually slip a jacket on, god forbid they use the sleeves.

“Ciao, John!” She said, waving him over.

John greeted her with a nod. As he approached he noticed the table’s second occupant. There was a young man with Gianna. They had the same dark waving hair, the same foggy eyes. He was beautiful, not just aesthetically, but in a way that John felt instinctively drawn to. 

This had to be the brother. 

“Please, sit,” Gianna said. “Let’s talk about the party. I sent you some of the details by text, so I’ll just go over the specifics…”

John managed to tear his eyes away from the young man and focus on Gianna’s planning. It was strange that she didn’t seem keen on introducing them for some reason. She was all but pretending their silent guest wasn’t even there, but John couldn’t pretend. He could feel rapt green eyes boring into him.

“I want you to feel like you can be part of the party, you know,” Gianna went on. “Have a drink, talk to some old friends. It’s not all work.”

“I’m not really a... party person,” John murmured.

Gianna waved that off. “Whatever you like, John. Just come and keep a close eye on my  _ bambino _ here.”

That earned her a shocked cough followed by a snarling scoff from the young man at her side. 

John raised a brow. So he had guessed right. This was the elusive Santino D’Antonio. 

It wasn’t polite to scent anyone without their permission in this day and age, but John inhaled with due subtlety through his nose. He wasn’t one to let manners distract him from gathering intel… not that it mattered. Santino was wearing scent blockers. It was strange; the blockers were so strong they had to be the best on the market. Santino didn’t even smell like a Beta, he just smelled like he wasn’t there at all. 

Little did John know, he was having the opposite effect on the young Omega across from him. Santino’s blockers might have blocked his own scent, but they did nothing to block him from scenting others and, fuck, John Wick’s Alpha pheromones were sparking all kinds of things in Santino, flipping switches at every nerve ending until his brain felt like a laser light show. He’d never been around many Alphas before and the few he’d met in his life had left him feeling a little high, but never anything like the peak he was at now sitting across from John Wick.

Santino licked his lips and forced himself to look away. 

Maybe it was a blend of things. Maybe it was the stories he’d heard, the myths, the power this man possessed in their world… John’s all-at-once darkly severe and striking features. Or maybe Santino was just a fucking Omega and this was all just biological bullshit.

In the back of his mind, Santino ticked that last box.

“It’s his first big event,” his sister went on, smiling a sly smile. 

“Gianna…” Santino hissed, clearly boiling with embarrassment. 

“He needs an escort. Someone to keep the Alphas off him, you understand.”

“ _ Questo non è lo scopo?  _ Isn’t that the point?” Santino muttered, too quiet for John to hear.

“And you want me to guard you?” John said, turning to Santino then. It was a kind but pointless gesture, asking him even though it was his sister who would inevitably make the final decision. 

Santino shot John a look that was somewhere between a glare and an eye roll. He seemed about to speak when Gianna cut in:

“You’re John Wick, of course he does!”

“ _ Ho già Ares, non voglio più di fottute guardie.  _ I already have Ares, I don’t want any more fucking guards,” Santino hissed in Italian, not wanting John to listen in. The man was not the type you could just insult to his face.

“ _ Ares è una Beta, Santi. Hai bisogno di un Alpha.  _ Ares is a Beta, Santi. You need an Alpha,” Gianna replied softly before turning back to John. “ _ Giusto _ ? Right?”

John looked between the two siblings, his expression giving little away as he replied: “ _ Certo _ . Sure.”

The red flush that rushed across Santino’s cheeks was only just hidden by his Mediterranean tan.

“ _ Parla italiano? _ You speak Italian? _ ” _

“Un po’. A bit.”John replied with a slight shrug. 

Santino bit back a grimace and smiled a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. It shouldn't have surprised him. John had worked for his family for years, it made sense that he could speak the language.

“Alright,” he muttered.

Gianna sucked in a shallow breath, sensing the tension rising between the two of them. In an effort to break it, she forced a grin. “Why don’t you take some time before the party as a chance to get to know one another,” she suggested, waving at the assassin. “John can take you around  _ Roma _ . How does that sound, Santi?”

Santino’s entire persona shifted then. The ever present glower turned into a glow. He’d never been allowed to wander around any city before, never mind a place like Rome full of tourists and scam artists.

Gianna saw his change of attitude and smirked. “See! You’ll realize John here is trustworthy and maybe then you will be happier to have him escort you to the party,” she said, though she could tell she didn’t need to do much more convincing.

“Today?” Santino said, trying to curb his enthusiasm with little success.

John blinked. This wasn’t part of the deal, but he couldn’t just flat out say no. Not when Santino was looking at him with that fire of excitement in his eyes. 

“Ah, sure,” he replied softly. He’d been planning to play tourist before the party anyhow, having someone tag along didn’t hurt.

Gianna clapped her hands. “There you go! How exciting!”

—

Santino and John walked across the Piazza Venezia and climbed the steps of the  Vittoriano. In the center of Rome, Santino looked out over the city that was so heavily controlled by his family’s empire and smiled. They’d been all around the central part of the city, seen all the obvious attractions: the Trevi fountain, the colosseum, etcetera. It was all very touristy and now that Santino got it out of his system, he wanted to set his eyes on something more... contemporary.

“Do you appreciate art, Mister Wick?” Santino asked. 

The Omega had a strange way of asking questions, John always felt like he was being interrogated. Santino’s eyes would lower, become intense and he’d wait for his answer almost without blinking, gazing at John with that hooded green glare of his.

“I like photography,” John replied, gesturing with his phone. He had an old film camera as well, but all the smart technology was so much more convenient these days. 

Santino smiled, a sly grin. He walked on at a quick pace, gesturing for John to follow. “I know what I want to do before we have to go back for dinner.”

They hopped into the car that was waiting for them, parked illegally by the curb. No local traffic warden was going to tell a Camorra driver to pack up and move. 

Santino leaned forward and gave his order to the driver: 

“The MAXXI.” 

—

They soon found themselves in a dark room lined with eerily lit pieces of abstract art. A TV sat on the floor at the end of the hall, on it’s screen a glowing image of the sculpture that was sitting in front of it appeared, as if the TV was acting as a mirror. Static appeared over the screen at irregular intervals. 

It was like something out of a horror movie.

“I love this,” Santino said, waving one hand at the piece as they wondered the ultra modern art museum, stepping through exhibit after exhibit.

Santino pursed his lips as he looked at the art. “I go into any other  _ galleria  _ and I just see paint on canvas. But this is masterful.”

John wasn’t really sure what  _ this _ was, but he could see that Santino was a fan. He cocked his head to one side, observing the dim-lit form of the strange sculpture he and Santino had paused in front of. 

“It’s something,” he replied as gently as he could. 

“I want to own a museum one day. I’ll display art like this,” Santino said, waving to a classical looking marble sculpture that had been decked out with neon paint.

“Maybe you should,” John replied. He huffed softly, adding, “People where I’m from would eat this stuff up.”

Santino turned to him with a raised brow. “People in New York?” 

John nodded and Santino turned back to the piece, letting out a thoughtful hum. He moved on through the gallery and John trailed along silently behind him. 

“I suppose we should be heading back to the Continental,” Santino sighed as the neared the end of the exhibit. It was about six o’clock. Gianna had given Santino only one condition upon sending him off with John and it was that they were both back in one piece by the time the continental started serving the set dinner menu at six thirty. 

“Do you want to?” John asked. 

Santino turned to him. There was a strangely solemn expression in his eyes. 

“What do you mean?” He replied, softly, seriously, as if John had asked him to leave his old life behind and run away into the night.

“There are some nice places around here,” John replied with a shrug, trying to calm the tense air growing between them. “We could sit outside. Enjoy a view.” He said these words automatically, stringing them together because what he really wanted was anything that would keep the clock ticking on their time together, even if it was only for an hour longer. 

Part of him wanted to whisk Santino away forever, anywhere the Omega wanted to go. In the back of his mind, John knew he was going a little bit mad. He’d never felt anything like this before, not with any Omega, especially not with one with his scent blocked so hard that it couldn’t even hope to trigger John’s inner Alpha.

Santino bit his lip. Gianna would be expecting them back. The driver would come through the museum looking for them in a few minutes. But he didn’t want the night to end either and John’s suggestion… it was just too compelling.

“Back door.”

—

Without really trying, they ended up in quite a romantic setting. It wasn’t hard to find in Rome; the city was a magical place at night. The fancy Sicilian restaurant Santino had decided on was just up the street from MAXXI. The venue was luxurious. The red fabric seats around their two person table were comfortably cushioned and they were lit by a small candle as well as the warm lights strung up around the terrace. It was so wonderfully intimate.

Still… John was a little on edge. The dinner had been his idea, but he was kicking himself.

“John,” Santino sighed. “ _ Ripositi _ . Relax. Just because it’s Sicilian doesn’t mean Cosa Nostra is going to barge in and murder us on sight.”

John nodded, but he kept his eyes peeled. Santino wasn’t a recognized face in their world. Not yet anyway. He was still just some posh looking Omega. John Wick however, his was a face people around here recognized. Thankfully he hadn’t had any recent encounters with Cosa Nostra, and even if he had, everyone in their line of work knew better than to cross John Wick, especially when he was out on some kind of… date?

Hopefully they could just eat in peace. 

“Are you ever not in this mode?” Santino asked, peering at John over the top of his menu.

John blinked. “What mode?”

Santino waved a hand vaguely. “I don’t know what you’d call it. John Wick mode? Are you ever just… not that guy?” Santino gestured again. “This guy?” 

For a silent while, John simply stared at him. Then slowly he replied: 

“No.”

Santino looked at him blankly for a second, then, he surprised John by laughing. 

“Let’s order wine!”

—

In hindsight the wine had been a mistake.

They arrived back at the continental three hours late. Santino had ordered a bottle with dinner and then proceeded to drink more than his fair share. He was a little tipsy when they walked through the front hall towards Gianna, whose longsuffering expression spoke a thousand words.

“You’re late,” she drawled, sniffing the air. “And drunk apparently.”

Santino sauntered forward with a defiant smile spread across his lips while John walked guiltily behind him. John knew it was his fault for suggesting they stay out, letting Santino order the wine, letting him drink far too much of it. Without a doubt, Gianna would see it that way too.

She was glaring death in his direction, a characteristic sneer appearing just before the bow of her upper lip.

“Sorry we slipped away, Gianna. John and I were just having a little fun!” Santino said, slurring his words. The wine had been a bit much. He knew his sister, she would berate him for his idiocy. 

“We just went for dinner,” John retorted upon seeing Gianna’s eyes narrow. 

Santino scoffed at that, waving the words off. “I wanted to stay out, but look! I’m fine! See!” He spun around dramatically with his arms spread, showing off his unmaimed form. “Not even a scratch! No one got hurt.”

“Enough!” Gianna snapped. “Santino, go wait in the car.”

“Alright,” Santino tittered. He turned, placing a hand on John’s shoulder, sliding it down his chest as he passed. Drunkenly, he drawled, “I’ll see you at the party,” before patting the John’s chest and walking away.

John briefly turned his head to watch Santino leave. Only the sound of Gianna loudly clearing her throat drew his gaze back from the gentle sway of the Omega’s departing hips.

“Well, I suppose my brother likes you,” Gianna muttered. Cocking her head to one side, her eyes narrowed. “But now I’m not so sure I do.”

“You can trust me with him,” John promised, his deep tone filled with all the sincerity he could muster. 

Gianna simply hummed. “We’ll see.”

“I promise, Gianna. I won’t let anything happen to him.” John was deathly serious, but then again, wasn’t he always. This wasn’t about the job or the money for John. It was a favour for a friend. He wouldn’t let her down.

A soft expression passed over the other Alpha’s features before she sighed. She turned to leave the Continental, stopping only briefly at the door. 

“John,” she said, over one shoulder. “We will see you Saturday.”

—

Rome

The Party Of The Century

—   
A massive concert seemed like an unusual theme for a coronation. The sepia tones of the ancient ruins were painted ultramarine by a laser light show that flashed around a neon stage. As they walked down the path that led into the venue, John supposed it was much more entertaining than the typically somber air these High Table affairs tended to go for. Gianna could have had her party in some museum, serving champaign to the guests gathered around her father’s old art collection, but where would be the fun in that?

“It would show more class,” Santino muttered. He was walking next to his sister, stepping down the red carpet between their guests. 

Gianna had been gracing her guests with nods and smiles. She was about to shoot some witty reply back at Santino, but instead paused to glare at one of their associates. The man glared right back as they passed him by. 

Before Santino could ask what was going on, Gianna leaned over to whisper something in her guard Cassian’s ear. It was subtle, something Santino couldn’t quite hear, but as soon as it was said Cassian broke off slightly from the others. 

Behind them, John watched the interaction closely. He knew the man who’d hazarded a glare Gianna’s way. Mister Akoni. His clan and the Camorra were not on good terms. 

Shifting slightly, John moved in closer to Santino.

Gianna greeted her most auspicious guests individually. One by one, she shook hands, thanked them for their support and, finally, introduced her brother.

Santino hated that part. Every single one of his sister’s High Table guests were Alphas and as soon as Gianna introduced him, making sure to mention his status, Santino could see the gleam of interest in their eyes. He felt like a rare piece at some kind of blackmarket auction. Their keen gazes flashed up and down his body, calculating his worth with courteous speed as to go almost completely unnoticed.

But Santino noticed and he loathed every single one of these Alphas, High Table or not. 

Gianna was just about to introduce him to another when Cassian returned. He whispered something in her ear. This time Santino just barely heard something about a meeting. Business never did sleep, not even at the party of the century.

“Excuse me,” Gianna said to the Alpha before turning to him. “Santi, darling. I have some business to attend to.” She led him away from the Alpha they’d just been talking to and made sure John was within sight. The man was lingering nearby but, as always, on the edges, a ghost in the crowd.

Gianna nodded to him before smiling at her brother. “Stay in John’s eyeline. Get a fresh drink. Enjoy the party.” 

Santino sighed, glad to be given some time on his own. He wasn’t sure if it was the crowd or the effect of being paraded in front of so many Alphas, but he was feeling hot under the collar. With one finger he loosened his tie.

As soon as Gianna left with Cassian, he headed to the drinks table. He downed a cool glass of white wine before picking up a champagne flute and turning back towards the party.

Only as soon as he turned around he found himself chest to chest with none other than the infamous master of coin. 

“Berrada,” he all but groaned.

“Santino D’Antonio,” the older Alpha drawled in that distinct accent of his. “It has been too long since we first met.” 

“Ah. Yes.” Santino winced. He’d been fifteen at the time. Berrada had been invited to a party at the vineyard. His father was subtle, but he’d allowed Santino to come down for dinner and clearly made a concerted effort to introduce him to Berrada. Planning for his future, Santino now supposed.

Berrada grinned. “If I’d known you were an Omega back then, I’m sure I would be courting you as we speak,” he said with a cocky smile.

Santino smiled, a defensive expression as a mix of embarrassment and disgust roiled his belly. This was Gianna’s whole plan. He was supposed to sell himself as a prize Omega. The thought almost made him gag, but he tried his best to grit his teeth and bear with it.

“Well, now you know,” he said, trying to play it off as a casual joke, as if the man’s last remark had been said in jest and was not the disturbing truth.

“Ha, yes, I suppose I do,” Berrada chuckled before stepping in that tiny bit closer and cupping Santino’s hip with one hand. “So, Santino… Could I offer you some company to go along with your drink?”

A fury consumed Santino, boiling under his skin. He suddenly felt sick.

“Could you just…” He moved out of reach. “Excuse me.” 

Berrada seemed put out when Santino set his glass down and rushed away. Santino was sure his sister would hear of his rudeness, but as much as it was an excuse, he honestly did feel terrible and the man’s exuding pheromones smelled vile.

He looked around, feeling strangely frantic until, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted John. The man was lingering on the outskirts of the party. His eyes were on and around Santino, scanning for danger when the Omega stumbled towards him.

“John…”

John frowned. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but as Santino came up to him he could tell something wasn’t quite right. The Omega was flush and almost tripping in his haste.

“What happened?” John asked. He looked past Santino and back towards the drinks table. “Berrada. Did he do something?” He’d seen the man talking to Santino before, but there hadn’t seemed to be anything lethal about their encounter.

“No. I don’t know… I feel…” Santino leaned forward, collapsing against John who gathered him up with ease into strong arms, keeping him on his feet as his knees gave out. He hummed in the Alpha’s grip. “This is better,” he sighed, inhaling John’s scent. 

John smelled of coffee and sweet spices. It was comforting, strong, unlike the cloying scent Berrada and those other High Table Alphas exuded. 

This close, John could see the red flush on Santino’s cheeks. He looked drunk, but there was something more to it than that. There was warmth spilling off him, a fever that was causing sweat to bead at his temples. But he didn’t smell sick. He smelled of nothing, his scent blockers still doing their job, masking him entirely. 

Worried, John walked them both away from the concert, across a narrow bridge and through an empty courtyard. He knew Gianna was nearby in one of the private rooms, whispering threats. As soon as they got inside, Akoni exited, stepping into the hall, seething. He walked past them, followed soon after by Gianna and Cassian. 

“Gianna,” John called out. 

Gianna heard him and turned. She frowned ever so slightly upon seeing the state Santino was in. 

Approaching John and her brother briefly, she whispered: “The private bathroom. Just through that door. I’ll join you in a moment.” She still needed to have a word with Cassian.

—

In the steamy bathroom, John deposited Santino near the flowing basin and watched as the Omega reached into the warm water. He splashed the calming liquid hastily over his face and neck, trying to cure whatever had come over him. In the process, bit by bit, he was washing away his scent blockers. 

As they dripped away, John inhaled deep. The scent that rose from Santino’s skin was a lush one: Vanilla, limoncello and candied citrus fruits. But there was something else to it, something almost sickly sweet, syrupy, drenched in it. 

John’s eyes widened. 

It was the rich scent of heat.

“Santino, you’re—”

Gianna burst through the door then. Having seen her brother stumbling about, she immediately directed a sharp glare his way. “Santi? _ Sei Ubriaco? _ You’re drunk?” she hissed.

Her brother shook his head, unsure. He’d only had one glass of wine and a few sips of champagne… hadn’t he?

“He needs to get out of here,” John told Gianna without going into detail. It was surely embarrassing enough for Santino to go into heat in the middle of a party, he didn’t need the world knowing about it.

Gianna all but growled, but she waved them off all the same. “Alright, alright. Take him to the house and get him some water. I don’t want him ruining my party by being sick on someone.” With that said, she rushed back to her guests.

It was no surprise that she didn’t realize what John had. An Alpha couldn’t smell their sibling’s heat. 

John wished he had that luxury. Santino’s scent was spilling out of him like incense, filling the room with the most seductively luscious smell. He had to get him out before every Alpha on the High Table decided to turn Gianna’s party into some kind of feral combat for mating rights.

—

The D’Antonio ancient stone estate house in Rome was empty. The staff had either been sent home or were busy working service and security at Gianna’s party. John pushed the heavy old door open with one foot, carrying Santino across the threshold. The Omega in his arms was breathing heavily and halfway to hysteria. 

“I can walk,  _ stronzo,  _ asshole,” Santino had gruffly insisted, but John had picked him up as soon as he stepped up the curb and nearly tripped over a raised cobblestone. 

“Santino, you’re in heat,” John muttered as soon as he hauled Santino into the house. 

There was a moment of silence, then Santino breathed a quiet: “Oh,” his voice shaking as a shiver ran through him. The sensation of John’s strong arms along his back and beneath the bend of his knees shouldn’t have been doing the things it was doing to him. 

“Heat,” he whispered. “That does make sense.” 

John carried Santino up a spiraling set of stairs to his room and lay him gently on the expansive bed. 

Too hot, the Omega wriggled impatiently out of his jacket and was struggling with the buttons on his waist coat. John leaned in to help and left Santino in only his white button down and trousers. It wouldn’t have been modest to undress him any further, but Santino was still writhing.

“I’m sweating,” Santino hissed, even though he could breathe again now with his tight waistcoat gone. “Fucking heat… I wish this was because Berrada slipped something in my drink. Then I could just pass out and you could go murder him.”

“I could still go murder him if you want,” John muttered, drawing a little laugh from the Omega. “I could smell it on you… the heat,” he admitted. “I tried to tell you at the party, but Gianna came in and…” he trailed off with a shrug. 

Even as the scent of Santino’s heat increased to a dangerously alluring level, John remained at the Omega’s bedside, staring down at him. Red and flush from the hot blood roaring through him, Santino stared right back with seductively hooded eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell my sister, John?” Santino asked breathlessly. “She thought I was drunk. If you knew I was in heat, why didn’t you tell her?”

John let out a heavy sigh. 

“I don’t know.”

A tense stillness settled between them. John didn’t get up from his seat on the edge of the bed while next to him Santino moved to prop himself up on his elbows. Gazing at John with his shirt now unbuttoned below his ribs, he looked positively edible. 

“She wouldn’t have let you take me home, you know,” the Omega purred. “Wouldn’t have let an Alpha like you touch me. She was saving me.” He arched against the bed as a twinge roiled his nerves. Relaxing back down with a huff, he bit out a harsh laugh. “Wanted to make me a High Table bitch.”

A rumble sounded in John’s chest and his hands clenched into fists. This reaction from the Alpha made Santino’s eyes narrow. He stared at John, searching the depths of his black gaze.

“They could have me right now, just like she wanted if you didn’t take me away.” 

“No,” the Alpha all but growled through gritted teeth. “They couldn’t.”

Santino blinked up at him. His lips parted as realization dawned. Slowly, he sat up, moving closer to John until his legs were splayed around the Alpha’s hips. Sat in his lap, Santino could feel John’s body tense up beneath him. There was an intoxicating want pouring off the Alpha, making them both weak.

“You’re right,” Santino whispered, his lips brushing the shell of John’s ear before he pulled back to look into the Alpha’s dark eyes. “They can’t have me. I’ve already chosen my Alpha.”

“Santino...” John started to reply, but the Omega’s lips were already descending on his. 

There was nothing chaste or soft or hesitant in their first kiss. Santino’s mouth opened in a hot moan and his tongue traced the seam of John’s lips as the Alpha parted them. The slick slide of their tongues meeting made them dizzy as the wet heat of the kiss overwhelmed their senses. 

They were in a daze. Their scents mixed, pheromones rising off their skin, fusing. The chemical reaction triggered a biological one. The air sparked and they were on fire. Every touch was electric, even through the cloth of their clothing. Neither could keep their hands off the other.

Until John pulled away, inhaling sharply. 

“This is the heat talking, Santino,” he grunted. “You don’t want—”

Santino grabbed John’s chin, clawing into his jaw. “Don’t tell me what I want,” he purred as he slipped his other hand down between their bodies. His fingers smoothed over the front of John’s black trousers before dipping down to cup the prominent bulge pressing through obscenely. 

“We are paying you tonight,” he teased as he tugged at the thick length of John’s cock through the fabric of his pants. “Aren’t we?”

The whisper of Santino’s breath tickled John’s lips as the Omega pulled him in closer drawing a pleasured hiss from the Alpha he had straddled beneath him.

“Do your job,” Santino breathed, “Mister Wick.”

John growled at that, but his hands landed on Santino’s hips. When their lips met again it was forceful and hungry. Santino’s demanding grip moved from John’s chin to card through his hair. His nails dragged along the Alpha’s scalp, marking the skin at the back of his neck.

They moaned into each other’s mouths, kissing with a lust that both knew had been lingering under the surface. They just hadn’t realized how powerful that lust would be until it breached. Now, with molten pleasure raining down on them, they both succumbed to the heat.

John tore away the rest of Santino’s clothes. Usually the Omega would have growled at the destruction of his designer threads, but that night he was only gasping at the sensation of John’s weapon-calloused fingers running along his bare skin. Santino suddenly found himself pushed back onto the mattress, naked and spread bare. John’s weight came down to cover him back up. The man was still fully clothed, the fabric of his black suit getting stained as Santino arched his hips and rubbed against it, his cock straining in an effort to get any friction it could.

Santino’s knees were forced apart, legs spread wide as John settled down over the Omega’s hips. Santino felt so exposed, prey caught by the beast. Seeing this animal of an Alpha above him still fully clothed was far more arousing than it should have been. His heart was pounding, he could feel the blood rushing through his chest and abdomen, pumping lower.

He hissed a sharp inhale when John’s hand came around his neck and pushed him down further into the bedding. The pressure on his jugular was loose, but forceful. It sent a thrill shuddering through his body, a thrill that increased tenfold when John leaned over to press another desperate kiss to his lips.

But Santino pulled back, delighted by John’s enthusiasm, but wanting more from the Alpha. He grinned as he arched just out of reach of John’s kisses before angling his head back to nip at the Alpha’s lips. 

“You want to kiss me, John?” he breathed against the Alpha’s mouth. “You want to make love?”

A deep rumble sounded in John’s chest, but he did not reply.

Santino chuckled. Reaching up, he grabbed hold of the Alpha’s tie. He pulled him in until John’s face was in his neck. 

Santino smelled of heat and the ripe percurser to sex. It took every sheer fucking ounce of John’s will not to sink his teeth into the arch of the Omega’s neck and lay claim to him right then and there.

“I just want to fuck you,” Santino whispered, his breath tickling the shell of John’s ear. 

With a growl, John slipped a hand down between their bodies. His fingers found the crevice between Santino’s legs, wet and open. Obeying the demand left unsaid, he slipped one, then two long digits inside. His fingers slid so easily into Santino’s slick hole as the wetness of the Omega’s heat-fueled arousal left him open, ready and always wanting more.

“Yes.” Santino’s breath came in shuddering pants. “Give it to me, John.”

John leaned back, almost drawing a whimper from Santino before he realized what the Alpha was doing. The click of metal came before John slid his belt free in with a long tug. Santino closed his eyes, sure that he would come if he pictured all the things John could do to him with that belt even as it was tossed aside for the night.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” John whispered, even as he leaned over to press a kiss to Santino’s parted lips. As their kiss deepened once more into a ravenous battle, John made quick work of opening his pants. He pulled the fabric aside just enough to lift his heavy cock out and stroke it as he watched Santino writhe beneath him. 

When Santino opened his eyes, a groan escaped him. With a shaking hand, he reached out, taking hold of John’s cock, feeling the hot length of it as he fisted the shaft.

“We shouldn’t,” Santino agreed as he stroked John. He was holding an Alpha in his hand for the first time and his entire body was reacting to the sensation. Wet heat dripped between his legs. 

Santino might not have been experienced, but he wasn’t exactly oblivious. He let go of John only for a moment to dip a finger into his hole, feeling the stretch alongside the Alpha’s thrusting digits. When he withdrew, he traced his slick over the swollen head of John’s cock, wetting the Alpha’s tip with his arousal and easing the slide of his fist.

John shuddered. It took everything he had not to thrust himself forward. He was a man of great endurance, but even he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He’d never been so easily affected by an Omega, but Santino’s scent and touch and, fuck, everything, it was all pushing John to the edge. He could already feel the familiar tightness at the base of his cock as his knot started to fill out. 

He’d never lost control like this. 

“What are you waiting for?” Santino panted heavily, spreading his legs as far as he could. He’d never done this before, but his body knew what to do. The heat told him what it wanted, what it needed. 

He needed an Alpha. He needed John.

John leaned over the smaller man beneath him, his body tense, an animal ready to pounce, but holding itself back. He took his cock in hand, wrapping his fingers around Santino’s, controlling the Omega’s grip, forcing him to lead the large Alpha cock to his wanting hole.

Santino shivered violently as John’s finger’s left him. He felt so empty, but the sensation only lasted a second. The weight of John’s cock came to rest next to his between his hips causing a jolt to rush through Santino. The heat spiked making anticipation almost impossible to bear, as the tip touched the wet crease between his legs, sliding down into it, tapping against his anxious entrance before the pressure of John’s thumb at the head gave it that last push it needed to slip inside.

The sharp gasp of Santino’s inhale covered the slick sound of John’s first thrust. The Alpha’s girth stretched the Omega wide, opening him like never before. He’d used toys before to help him through his heats, but nothing had ever been this thick, this hot, this much.

“Ah, John. Fuck,” Santino breathed, arching back against the bed as the Alpha above him sank in deeper and deeper. He was impossibly full when John finally pulled him into his lap, his large hands kneading Santino’s cheeks as he rocked gently inside the Omega, allowing his length to settle in deep.

Santino’s breath was coming in harsh pants. He was practically tearing out his curls as his body contracted around the Alpha buried deep inside him. But John, he was stoic. The Alpha was barely even ruffled, sitting above him with his eyes closed, just letting the pleasure sink in. 

Santino sat up abruptly, pulling himself further into John’s lap. He grabbed John’s suit jacket and grit his teeth as he tore the fabric down the man’s arms. As soon as his limbs were free again, John caught Santino’s hips, keeping the Omega from tumbling back down onto the mattress with a firm grip on his waist. With a tug, Santino unknotted his tie and slipped the silk from his neck, tossing it aside before ripping John’s shirt open with a snapping as the buttons tore away.

Rocking in John’s lap, Santino wrapped his arms around the Alpha’s neck. Finally, skin to skin, he pressed the heat of his naked chest to John’s and reveled in the rumbling growl he could feel rippling within the man as he thrust his cock between their bellies. 

He bounced in John’s lap, feeling himself edging closer and closer to his peak with each in and out slide of the Alpha’s cock inside him. A particularly hard thrust and the resonant grunt from John sent Santino tumbling suddenly over his edge before he’d even realized he’d reached it. 

Legs shaking, heart pounding, Santino shuddered as he came. His body squeezed around the cock still thrusting on inside him. He’d had never experienced an orgasm like this, never had it be drawn on for so long with the continued pistoning of an Alpha using him for his pleasure.

As Santino trembled in his release, John tried to lower them both to the bed, but the Omega didn’t let go despite the shuddering in his limbs. He ended up kneeling with one hand pressed to the mattress and the other still wrapped around Santino’s waist, holding the Omega up as he fucked into him with thrust after sharp thrust. 

John’s knot was catching, he could feel it. The swelling ache at the base of his cock was growing, slipping through Santino with each pounding movement of his hips. With one final deep press, it filled out, locking them together. John’s climax took him.

With his face buried against John’s neck, Santino let out a strangled moan as he came again on the Alpha’s knot. His body instantly reacted to John’s liquid heat pouring in deep, filling him up, quelling the ache inside almost instantly and replacing it with the sensation of pure unadulterated satisfaction. 

In the midst of his pleasure, Santino’s lips twitched hungrily. Without warning he sank his teeth into John’s neck, acting on the impulse that he’d never experienced and never learned that he’d need to control. 

The effect was immediate. Upon feeling the bite, John growled deep in his chest. He pressed Santino to the bed, pushing his hips, somehow getting deeper than ever before he responded to the bite by claiming the Omega below him in turn. 

As soon as his teeth sank into Santino’s neck, John knew he was dead.

Still, once the bliss cleared away and his knot slipped free, John stared down at the Omega below him. Santino stared right back, his hooded eyes drooping as sleep claimed his heat ravaged body. Just before he succumbed, he leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his Alpha’s lips.

“Good boy, John,” he whispered.

John held Santino as he slept, carding his fingers through the Omega’s dark curls. 

Whatever bounty Gianna put on his head would be well worth it.

—

John woke the next morning, frowning at the sensation of warmth heavy across his chest. It had been a long time since he'd slept in a bed beside his own or one of the many identical continental mattresses. It had been even longer since he’d shared that bed with someone else. 

He arched his neck to see Santino sprawled across his chest. The Omega was already awake, his deep green gaze consuming John, tracing the Alpha’s neck with a thoughtful expression as he took in the mark he’d left in the morning light. 

Santino smirked when he noticed John blinking down at him. Pressing his hand to John’s chest, he leaned in and took the Alpha’s bearded chin in one hand. With a soft inhale, he pressed a long, deep kiss to John’s lips. The desperation from the night before was gone now that the heat had been satisfied. Their lips met and lingered in a gentle caress.

As soon as they parted, Santino spoke. “Shower and go to the guest room.” His smirk widened and he patted John’s cheek. “If anyone finds you in here, my sister will kill you.”

“I’ll manage,” John replied before pulling Santino in for another kiss.

Eventually Santino got out of bed that morning. He doused himself in scent blockers before throwing on a fluffy robe that hid the red mar of his new mating mark. With one last check over himself in the mirror, he went down to the terrace for breakfast, acting as if this morning were like any other.

Only it wasn’t. That was immediately apparent. 

Gianna was already at the breakfast table, which was unusual. Santino had beat her to it every morning since they were children. As soon as he saw her there, eyeing him over her morning espresso, he knew they’d been had.

“Gianna…” Santino drawled in greeting as he tenderly took a seat.

“Santino… how are you feeling this morning?” His sister stared across at him, a smile twisting her lips. “It sounded like you had an… eventful night.”

A hot blush passed over Santino’s cheeks, but he simply scoffed at his sister.

“I’m sure I did,” he replied. Since the cat was out of the bag, he let his robe slip off his shoulder ever so slightly to reveal the mark he’d previously been trying to hide.

Gianna’s eyes widened briefly followed by the grin splitting her lips. “Well, I wanted to meet you this morning to let you know you have my blessing,” she said, “John will be a wonderful addition to the family.”

Santino stared at her. Her acceptance of the situation was surprising, though considering John’s reputation, he was perhaps the greatest ally they could have ended up with. But still, their bonding hadn’t exactly been sanctioned. Unless...

“You knew I wasn’t drunk when you sent us home… didn’t you?” he asked, though he could already guess her answer. He stared at his sister, eyes low, narrow. “You planned this.”

Gianna’s expression dropped as she feigned innocence.

“I don’t even know what you’re implying,” she gasped. “It’s not like I know your heat schedule.” 

Fuck. She definitely did. 

Santino shook his head at that thought. The curl in one corner of Gianna’s lips gave her away instantly.

He was startled by a sudden knock behind them. The sound was followed swiftly by Ares leading John into the room with a hand on the taller man’s shoulder. John looked fresh out of the shower, still dripping a bit, slightly confused and shirtless. 

‘I found him half naked in the hall. What do you want me to do with him?’ Ares signed with annoyance in every gesture. 

“Let him sit down and have breakfast, of course,” Gianna huffed out, rolling her eyes. 

Ares raised a brow. It was very apparent that she thought her orders to find John were to be carried out in a more… aggressive manner. Disappointed, she shoved the Alpha towards the table before seeing herself out. 

“So, John,” Gianna drawled as the man joined them, hesitantly taking up the seat next to her brother. “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

John’s eyes flicked to Santino before shifting back to Gianna. 

“Sure,” he uttered.

Gianna tried to keep a neutral face, but her lips were twitching into a smile. 

“I suppose you’ll be extending your stay,” she drawled. “And we can certainly find things for you to do if you’re bored.”

“I’m staying a little while longer, yeah,” John replied, “But I’m still going back to New York…” He cast Santino a soft, almost unsure look. Technically, once mated it was an Alpha’s decision where his Omega went, but John clearly wasn’t going to force Santino home with him after only one heat together.

However, Santino only smirked at the unnecessary gesture. Turning to his sister, he announced: “I’ll be going with him, naturally.”

“Ah… Well, you will be missed.” Gianna muttered. A frown was curling her lips. She’d clearly been expecting Santino to make the Alpha stay and do their bidding in Italy. 

“I plan to open a gallery,” Santino announced, further dismantling Gianna’s plans. “I want to be a curator. Exhibit contemporary art.” 

John leaned back in his chair. A proud spark of interest lit his eyes. However, across the table, Gianna simply huffed out a laugh.

“A gallery in New York?” she repeated with incredulous amusement lacing her tone, “With what money?”

Santino smiled as if it were obvious. “The money you will afford me to reestablish Camorra operations in the United States.”

Gianna sipped the last of her espresso with a raised brow. With a thoughtful hum, she set the cup on its platter. 

“I like the way you think,  _ bambino. _ ”

Finally, the tension in the air seemed to clear. John let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and looked to the grinning Omega at his side. It had been a game well played. Santino got everything he wanted and Gianna, well, things might not have gone her way, but there was potential. 

“Will you be worried about me?” Santino asked with a little smirk. “So far from home in New York?”

Gianna rolled her eyes. “Please… No one is going to fuck with John Wick’s Omega.” 

Santino looked over at his new Alpha. John was tranquil as ever, observing their conversation without comment. His eyes however, were still on Santino. There was a heat in his gaze, a protective look that spoke of the many men John would kill if they ever laid a finger on him.

Quite frankly, Santino had to agree with Gianna. He looked to his Alpha and smiled.

No one was going to fuck with John Wick’s Omega. 

No one.

—

FINO ~ END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading~ <3 [Come find me on Tumblr~!](https://itsanidiom.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Your comments sneak off after breakfast to make love in the vineyard <3  
Your kudos join the mile-high club on the way back to New York <3


End file.
